Book of Five
by Daemonchan
Summary: AU. Shounen ai. Duo laughed softly and snatched the purse, gently weighing the gold in his hand. Years worth of work in one simple job. "My dreams. She just paid me for my dreams."


Book of Five

A Gundam Wing Alterverse

by Daemonchan

::author's note::

This story has been kicking about my head for more than three years. It saw me through the end of my undergraduate years...mostly educational stuff that was probably important at the time. Hope I don't need it down the line. The elemental characters are the most basic translations, since I know those and was too lazy to look into making them sound cooler.

::warnings::

AU, with mild shounen ai (1+2, 3+4) but I may throw in a lemon if you ask nicely. ^_^

§ § § § §

book one::one::

"A Gundam will wither and die  
if bonding does not occur,  
but there is always an exception  
to every rule."  
--Jave Maxwell

He could feel the stranger's eyes on his back, the strong gaze having been focused there for the last three glasses of the swill that passed for ale in the tavern of the Black Arm. This was the kind of place that attracted strangers, not regulars, men whose comings and goings were swift and secret. The main room was large, and poorly lit, lending itself to the dregs of the criminal world. The walls may have been white once, but were now an unhealthy brown, dyed by decades of smoke and spilled ale.Thick hewn beams crossed the ceiling, blackened by ash. The only light in the place came from a huge fire over which dinners were constantly burning. Each table had a small lamp or tallow candle, but no one ever used them. Usually, the clientele kept to themselves, preferring the smoke thickened darkness to hide in, away from prying eyes.

The tavern was a pretty accurate reflection of the town it had been serving for the last four decades. Watertown was a tragic place that had seen demons and dictators move in and pick off the general populace. The wood and plaster houses sat in the shadow of what had once been a fortress built to protect against such evil, but was nothing more than a skeleton of hewn stone, mortar and haunted mazes of tunnels built into the mountain behind it.

What had happened there was a little spoken of legend...it was a stark reminder of what happened to heroes in this demon infested world. A place traveled only by children with something to prove, no one doubted that spirits still roamed the slagged rocks. Moss covered skeletons were never disturbed, even by the bravest of the dared, human and demon entwined forever in their final battle. The Stronghold was a place of horror, and cast its sorrowful shadow onto the land about it.

The Black Arm was an example of what that shadow had wrought, filled with weary townspeople and travelers seeking to escape from the doom of the past. Strangers watched other strangers with a sympathetic and wary eye and Duo Maxwell would have been worried about the gaze that hadn't wavered for the three hours he had been sitting there...if he hadn't been working on getting piss drunk for the last three hours. As it was, the weak alcohol had either softened his self preservation or he was finally feeling the first stirrings of curiosity. It was a bad habit he had throttled early in his life; he was the cat who learned its lesson the first time.

He turned carefully in his chair, tipping the rough carved mug to his mouth. He swallowed the rest without grimacing, now studying the stranger from the corner of his vision. Nothing about the figure stood out. He wore a long traveler's cloak, fastened at the chest, the hood partially shadowing his face. Hell, that could have described half the patrons ensconced in the corners of the room.

His observation was interuppted as another figure flung himself into the chair across the table, two new glasses of ale thudding onto the tabletop. The man seemed an ill kept scarecrow, with white hair sticking from the sides of his head. He wore a brightly colored shirt and dark glasses, even in the dead of night. The lenses were always perched at the very end of his nose, enabling the man to see. Howard was an eccentric among eccentrics, but could fix anything that ran by mechanical means.

Duo smiled his thanks, deftly picking up one of the cups without turning his head.

"Io, Maxwell. You're drinking like a fish, man."

Duo still didn't turn. "Yeah, well....the haunting is gettin' on my nerves."

His companion nodded in sympathy. "More dreams?"

He almost missed Duo's sigh, waiting patiently for the teen to respond. "Every night this week...I can see the faces now...clearer than ever before. Whatever the haunting means...I think we'll find out very soon."

Howard watched Duo with interest, noting the toll the strange dreams were taking on his friend. The boy could easily be mistaken for a young girl, due in part to his most prominent feature: a wealth of brown hair, a braided rope that fell below his buttocks. Though it made him easily identifiable, and in fact had gotten him caught for his myriad thieving escapades, he refused to do more than trim it, and never wore it down. It had also attracted the kind of attention that allowed him to survive between jobs, catching the eyes of men looking for something different from the average working girl. Wide eyes an unusual shade of violet only added to his effeminate appearance.

The boy stood out against the usual crowd, though his looks were just as dirty and downtrodden as the rest. His clothes had seen the same wear, his black touched by a strange affectation of a holy man's white mark at the throat. No one would think twice of such eccentricities. The black tunic was open at the shoulders then tight at the forearms, exposing leanly muscled upper arms, marked with a crisscross of thin white scars. He also chose a strange new fashion based on the loose hakama of northern _samurai_, with long ties at the thigh and ankle so the material could be gathered and kept out if the way. His body was the whip thin of a child who was used to going to sleep hungry for days at a time. The older man could see the dark circles under Duo's eyes, and the gaunt cast to his cheeks.

The boy had been suffering from what he had begun to call a haunting. He figured the images were the faces of the dead he had seen over the years, returning to exact their revenge on his guilty soul. He still blamed himself for surviving a horrific plague that killed indiscriminantly among Watertown, taking the rich but mostly decimating the poor. His best friend had been taken by the disease, after stealing antidote for the other street children. Duo later lived through a fire that took the church orphanage where he lived, killing everyone else. Nightmares drove him to take only a few hours of sleep a night, but he still managed to function.

Howard was sure they were nothing more than stress visions, but was still troubled by Duo's reaction to the whole situation.

The dark haired youth turned back to the table, mug clasped between his hands. His manner was still relaxed and casual, but Howard could read the suspicion in his eyes. "You see that table directly behind me?"

Howard glanced up quickly as Duo shifted in his chair, making a show of settling himself. The older man nodded slightly as the figure came into view behind the boy's shoulder. Duo stilled quickly,

"He's been watching me for the past three hours."

Howard smiled. "Well, _she_ must not have anything else better to do in this hole."

The boy returned the smile. Howard's observations were incredible, honed by a lifetime of dealing with the hooded strangers who came to him with mecha that needed to be repaired or sold in the black markets. Duo trusted his friend's 'hunches' as if they were the plainest truth.

"Wonder what she wants."

_Duo._

Howard watched the youth stiffen with shock, hands gripping the table's edge with white knuckled terror. Before he could even ask, Duo stood quickly and advanced on the cloaked stranger with uncharacteristic rage.

"What do you want?" he half shouted before realizing that he was breaking the cardinal rule of the Black Arm. Don't draw attention to yourself. That marked you as stupid and that would only get you dead before you could bolt your door. His mysterious fan didn't seem to notice, but inclined her head slightly. He caught the flash of an amused grin and flushed with embarrassment.

_Sit._

He hadn't even considered the source of the voice before he found himself seated in the other chair at the table. He shook his head. "Stop that." He didn't know why, but he was quite sure that the stranger was playing games with him, testing his reaction to the commands.

She sat back sharply, pale hand flying to her temple. The smile became an 'o' of shock that Duo almost missed. "Very well," she said, voice low against the constant buzz of the other patrons. Her hand pulled the dark hood back, revealing the sharp angles of an elven Hunter. Neatly tapered ears were barely hidden beneath closely cropped hair of deep purple. Her face was narrow, marked by the sharply angled brows above almond eyes.

"Hunter," he whispered, gesturing to the lining of the dark cloak. Class was delineated by colors in Elven society, with forest green marking the Hunters, those trained to patrol the forests which hid the cities from unwanted humans. Few humans had even seen an Elf, much less knew societal colors.

She didn't even blink at his observation. "You know something of our lore, Duomaxwell." Elves had only one name, an amalgamation of syllables from ancestors past. They were amused by the human insistence on two names for identification and would run both names together. Hundreds of years of human contact had not broken the long-lived race of this habit.

Duo shifted slightly in the chair, his discomfort melting away as if he was in the presence of an old friend. He didn't know how, but he was sure the elf intended him no harm, despite her tricks. "I make it my business to know my customers."

She blinked lazily. "How do you know I am a customer?"

"You came here looking for me. Now, either you want to kill me or pay me, and since my back hasn't sprouted a new hilt, I figure you'd like to give me your money."

His humor was lost on the intense woman. She nodded once and a large purse appeared on the table close enough to Duo's hands to make them itch. It was heavy with coin...the gold kind. Duo had a second sense when it came to the contents of purses and the like. It helped feed him on many occasions.

"I need you to recover an object for me."

With a triumphant smile, he kicked his chair back, bringing his heels to the table. He began swinging his length of braid in one hand. "See? Now that wasn't so hard. What is it?"

"I cannot tell you."

Her cool reply brought him to his feet. He managed to control his voice, trying not to draw anymore eyes to himself. "What do you mean, you can't tell me?" Violet eyes narrowed. "Can't or won't?"

"Can't," the Elf Hunter confirmed, and stood herself. She replaced her hood, never losing contact with Duo's eyes. "Follow your dreams, Duo. It's what I'm paying you for."

Floored by shock, Duo could do nothing more than watch her leave, the rough crowd parting around her without realizing it. He was still staring at where she had disappeared when Howard laid a cautious hand on his shoulder.

"Duo?"

Duo blinked rapidly, eyes dry from staring. He looked down at the leather purse still inches from his hands. He was almost tempted to leave it there and not invite the trouble sure to follow it. Almost.

"What did she want?" Howard was also looking at the purse, thankful his eyes were hidden behind his dark glasses.

Duo laughed softly and snatched the purse, gently weighing the gold in his hand. Years worth of work in one simple job. "My dreams. She just paid me for my dreams."

~^~^~^~

"Yfri-sama." A group of Hunters appeared from the darkness, matching their commander's strides. Any observers would not know one figure from the next, full hoods concealing the tell-tale features. None were armed, though far from helpless. Their weapons would be as much a give away as their eyes.

She did not speak until they were within the shelter of the stable where their mounts were saddled and waiting. "Marimeialirana. Contact the Elders. Mizu has been found."

"Hai, yfri-sama." The Hunter was mounted and gone in a flurry of hoofbeats. The Elders had been awaiting her news for more than three months, since the account of a dark haired boy with blue violet eyes had been overheard by merchants who had friendly dealings with the Elves. No one in this part of the country had eyes of that color, all being so dark to be nearly black. Blue eyes happened occasionally, but violet eyes were a mark.

Another Hunter stepped up to his commander, head respectfully low. "Pardon my questioning, yfri-sama, but how do you know? Hundreds of violet eyed children have been born and died in this Light forsaken town."

"No." The word was cold and stopped his argument flat. "It is a miracle of the Light that the Mizu survived. It is our duty to make sure he survives to meet his destiny."

"Shitsurei shimasu, yfri-sama."

She nodded curtly, mounting her own horse. A hundred years the Elvish nation had waited to fulfill a debt, to make good on a promise unfulfilled. She would personally see that the debt was paid, with interest.

Duo Maxwell was a unique boy, clever and a survivor against the odds. His eyes set him apart from the rest of the world, a mark of something preternatural and never quite understood.

A mark the world had yet to realize it was waiting for.

::owari one:: 


End file.
